


to wax poetic.

by owlsii



Series: poetry in motion [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Alexander Hamilton, Fluff, M/M, Mystery, Poetry, Stimming, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Trans George Washington, the sappiest thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:38:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsii/pseuds/owlsii
Summary: One morning, George finds a slip of paper on the kitchen island, written on in messy cursive and signed with his boyfriend's name. What is Alexander up to?





	1. sunday

**Author's Note:**

> i drew a fake book cover for this fic!! [it's posted on my tumblr](http://owlsii.tumblr.com/post/176894069953/to-wax-poetic-a-whamilton-fic-on-ao3-read-it)
> 
> i cannot believe that i wrote this entire fic in one day. i spent my entire wednesday writing this and i am literally so excited to share this you have no idea.
> 
> so, this fic revolves around a 'mystery' that george is trying to solve. you can try and solve it, too! i'll be posting one chapter every day. feel free to speculate in the comments, i encourage it! but, if you're 100% sure that you've figured it out, i ask that you not spoil it for everyone. if you do, i might delete your comment. i just live for creating suspense!!
> 
> with that in mind, let's begin!!

Alexander was always the first one to wake up, as he liked to get a headstart on the day. He was always just walking out the door as George stepped out of their bedroom, only having time for a quick kiss and a “G’morning George I love you so much bye!” before leaving George alone. Neither of them minded, because more often than not, they had the entire evening to spend together.

Except for today. It was Sunday, and usually Alexander would’ve taken the day off, but he decided against it, as he was working nonstop on a particularly controversial series of articles for the newspaper.

So George woke up, alone in the bedroom. He threw on a t-shirt and yawned as he opened the door to a silent apartment.

“Alexander?” he called. There was no response. He frowned. Had Alexander said something about leaving early? He didn’t think so. He checked his phone, but there weren’t any texts or missed calls. He even opened up their text thread, just to double check, but there wasn’t anything new.

Well, there was nothing he could do about it. He stepped into the kitchen, the cold tiles making him wince slightly. He noticed a dirty cereal bowl in the sink, confirming once again that his boyfriend already left. If he was being honest, it hurt a little, knowing that their happy morning routine was interrupted.

George took out a bowl, and poured himself a drink from the already half-empty coffee pot. Alexander, most likely in his hurry, left out the cereal box. As he went to sit down, he spotted something on the kitchen island. A piece of paper. His eyebrows raised as he put his cup down and picked it up.

__ “six”  
_ my dearest, poetry is far from enough to convey my thoughts when i am  
_ __ ever yours.

George chuckled, a warm feeling in his heart. Then he paused. ‘Six?’ Throughout their years of dating, he never remembered being gifted one poem, let alone six. Although Alexander did write about him, and even dedicated one of his poetry anthologies to him, he never outright gave George a poem. He flipped the paper over.

_ Sorry! I had to leave early for work! I gave you a kiss and said goodbye, but I think you were dreaming, because you said “alligators” instead of “bye.” Maybe you meant to say “see you later, alligator.” Or maybe, “Alexander,” because they sound really similar. Maybe one day I’ll have to confess that I’m actually an alligator in a human suit. I hope you’ll still love me. _ _  
_ _ \- Alexander (the alligator) _

George smiled. Even in writing, Alexander went on tangents. His handwriting was a loopy, scribbly cursive that few could decipher. George was one of those lucky few. He gently folded the paper and put it in his pocket. Something about the tiny poem (and the cute note) told him to keep it.

~

Later that day, George came home from work to find Alexander already there. He snuck up behind his boyfriend, who was watching TV on the couch, laptop open and tapping furiously at the keyboard. George quickly wrapped his arms around him.

“Holy shit!” Alexander yelled, jumping and causing the laptop to fall on the cushion next to him. He spun around and was greeted with George, who laughed loudly as they kissed. He grinned as he snapped, “You’re an asshole!”

“Yes, but I’m your asshole,” George replied, taking off his jacket. He shook off his shoes and joined his boyfriend on the couch.

“How was work?” Alexander asked, not looking away from the article he was rapidly finishing. The cursor practically flew across the page. If George didn’t know better, he would think the program was glitched.

“Oh, just as bothersome as usual,” he said, annoyance seeping into his tone. “Lee never does what I ask of him. Everyone else is perfectly fine with the instructions I give them, but he just likes to complain.”

“Mhmm,” Alexander murmured. He adjusted his glasses and then went right back to typing. “Jefferson’s the exact same way. Or he just likes to shit all over my articles. They’re always filled with unnecessary edits that he never gives to anyone else. And he’s always asking me to cut it down.”

“Well, he’s right about that,” George said, leaning on his shoulder and gazing down at the six pages his boyfriend had already written. Wait. Six. “...Alexander?”

“Yeah?” he answered, and the page count grew to seven.

“What was with the poem you wrote this morning?” George asked, sitting up. A brief look of panic flashed over his boyfriend’s face, but it was replaced with boredom almost immediately. “I don’t remember you ever giving me a poem, but it was titled ‘six.’”

“What poem?” Alexander didn’t look away from the screen.

George narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alexander hamilton is a cryptid confirmed
> 
> again, feel free to speculate in the comments. i won't confirm or deny anything though. like i said, i live for the suspense.
> 
> see you tomorrow ;D


	2. monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finds another poem, and Alex starts writing a new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the poem alex starts writing is one i wrote. and i sorta used my own writing process bc i feel like he would have a similar one. also, if you want to hear what his "performance voice" sounds like, just look up slam poetry performances on youtube and that's basically what it is lol

George was disappointed when the next morning, Alexander was gone. Again. He stood up and stretched, sighing in relief when his back cracked. His eyes caught the slightly crumpled paper from yesterday, resting on his nightstand. He knew something was up. He could feel it.

His instincts were correct, because as he was getting bread for some toast, he spotted another paper, in the same spot. He turned the toaster on and walked over.

_“four”_   
_yes, i remembered to take out the trash, and to finally get some sleep for once,_   
_only if to earn a sweet kiss from your lips.  
until you, i wouldn't have done anything at all._

George smiled wide. But then he only grew more confused. It was ‘four’ this time. Not ‘five,’ like it was counting down, nor a ‘seven,’ like it was counting up. Either way, he enjoyed the words. He flipped the paper over.

 _I had to go in early again! But, I didn’t drink half the coffee today. Are you proud of me? You always say that you are, but I never really believe you. I’ve always wondered why you chose to date me, of all people. I guess we’re just perfect for each other._ _  
_ _\- Alexander (the skeptic)_

George, filled with love and more than a little bit of curiosity, pocketed the poem.

~

This time, Alexander was home later than usual. His ponytail was a mess, his work clothes were unkempt, and his eyes screamed _tired_. George kissed him on the forehead and took his bag.

“Go take a nap,” he ordered, and that was that.

Alexander shuffled into their room and collapsed on the bed, not even taking his shoes off. In what seemed like nanoseconds, his breathing was even and he was asleep. George silently shut the door.

Dinner was ready an hour later, so he went to go wake Alexander. He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for an answer before opening it.

“Red like drops of paint... a masterpiece, ready to be...” Alexander was whispering in the darkened room, his poet-voice on full display. “A masterpiece, ready to be unveiled. Red like drops of paint, a masterpiece ready to be unveiled.”

George chose not to interrupt. He leaned against the doorframe.

“Red like a rose... blankity blank unable to drive it away...” He squinted at his laptop, fingers tapping rhymically on the keyboard. “Red like a rose... something something... unable to drive it away. P...poison? No... Bug poison? Pest... poison.”

“I thought you were taking a nap,” George said loudly.

“George!” he exclaimed, head snapping over. “Sorry. I woke up and got a really good idea. Also, I need your help.”

“Alright, what is it?” He wasn’t going to protest the lack of sleep, because he knew there was no stopping his boyfriend when a new idea sparked.

“What’s the word, like, in a garden,” he began, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Poison, but with bugs. It kills flowers, too. Bug poison. But that’s not the word. It’s something else. Like a termite. But those aren’t in gardens.”

“Bugspray?” George offered, arms crossed. Alexander shook his head.

“No, not on people, on the flowers.” He stared at the open document, the cursor blinking at him. He muttered to himself, his lips moving rapidly. George didn’t catch what he was saying, until-- “Pesticides!”

“Pesticides?” he echoed, clueless.

“Red like a rose, pesticides unable to drive it away!” Alexander said loudly. His fingers flew across the keyboard now. “Red like... like passion, burning... emotions, in your stomach, hidden emotions, ah! Burning deep... and beating hearts ablaze!”

“Well, when you finish, dinner’s ready.” George received a wordless affirmation in response, and shut the door again.

He set the table slowly, leaving enough time for Alexander to skip out of the bedroom, hands flapping. George looked up.

“I’m guessing it’s a good one?” he asked. Alexander gave a squeal and an excited nod as an answer. “Alright, let’s eat.”

They finished quickly, and their hands ended up intertwined at the edge of the table.

“Thanks for helping me earlier,” Alexander said. Then he squealed again, a sort of high-pitched squeaky noise that was probably annoying to anyone who wasn’t used to it. George didn’t think it was annoying at all. In fact, he would love to have a nice chat with whoever thought it was annoying. “Sorry, it’s just so good, I’m really proud of it. I can’t wait to perform it. But I would’ve gotten stuck on that word for a lot longer if you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” George said. “And Alexander, you don’t have to apologize for stimming.”

“Well, you provided moral support with your presence,” he replied, ignoring the second sentence. “I like having someone to talk to when I write. ‘Cause talking out loud helps, especially with poetry. Plus, I know you love my performance voice.”

George just smiled and kissed the back Alexander’s hand.

“I saw the new poem you wrote me,” he said nonchalantly. “But, why’s it called ‘four’ if the last one was ‘six?’”

“Hm?” Alexander muttered, head resting on his hand and gazing lovingly at George.

“Nevermind,” he said, and continued to rub circles on the back of his boyfriend’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell i'm projecting on alex just a tiny bit
> 
> also george kinda just gets more irritated/slightly frustrated about this as the week goes on. but it ends happily :D


	3. tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rains, and George gets a headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this poem is probably my favorite one.
> 
> i usually love the 'alex has a panic attack whenever it storms' trope but i thought this route was much sweeter.
> 
> also yes i know all of these chapters are really short. i thought if i'm posting one a day then they could afford to be a bit shorter than the word count i usually aim for. although i think this one is the shortest.
> 
> anyway, enjoy!!

George was disappointed, but not surprised, when he woke up alone again. He wondered if Alexander was actually going to work. Maybe he was just hanging out with his friends. Actually, scratch that. He knew the group of friends, and all of them were far from morning people, apart from Alexander. Then again, Alexander wasn’t a morning person, either. He just barely slept, so he was already wide awake when the sun rose anyway.

He looked out the window. It was raining, and he could hear thunder rumbling faintly in the distance. He knew how uneasy his boyfriend became whenever it rained. But lately, he was getting better at dealing with his anxiety, which made George’s heart swell with pride. Still, he checked his phone, just in case of any missed calls.

The first thing he did when he exited the bedroom was go into the kitchen, and sure enough, there it was. A slip of paper, sitting on the kitchen island. He picked it up.

_“one”_   
_gray skies don't cause me misery anymore,_   
_even on days where lightning threatens to burn my heart away._   
_or_   
_rather,_   
_gray skies cry the most beautiful raindrops,_   
_every storm i weather with you._

George felt a little like crying himself, but he focused on the ‘one.’ Now it was just random, he was sure of it. Whatever Alexander was doing, the titles weren’t a part of it. He turned to the other side.

 _I got called in early! I’m really sorry. These articles really need to be the best. As I was pouring my coffee, it suddenly started to storm. I freaked out a little, not gonna lie, but I’m wearing a chewy necklace. It’s the green feather one you got me, because it looks like a quill. You know me so well. And... you’ve helped me get to know myself, too. I’ll miss you today._ _  
_ _\- Alexander (the brave)_

Okay, now George was definitely tearing up. He rubbed at his eyes and pocketed the note.

~

The apartment was silent when George entered, his head pounding with pain. He threw his bag down and sighed. Sunlight streamed through the open windows, making his eyes hurt. He closed the curtains and changed into his pajamas before crawling into bed, falling asleep soon after.

“George?” Alexander was shaking his shoulder. He couldn’t tell what time it was, because he kept his eyes closed.

“Mm?” he replied.

“D’you want me to order pizza?”

“...Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I liked the poem. I’m proud of you.”

George felt lips meet his for a moment, and then heard the floor creak as his boyfriend walked away.

“I’ll let you sleep,” Alexander said softly, and the door clicked shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ran out of ideas for the after-work scenes pretty quick lol
> 
> anyway, see you tomorrow!!


	4. wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's poem brings back a memory. They watch a horror movie, and George tries to get a hint about the mystery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a series for this au!! i already have another fic planned as a sort of sequel to this. but that's gonna take a while.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy!!

It wasn’t a surprise this time, when Alexander wasn’t there. It just... hurt. George knew that something was going on, but he couldn’t tell _what_ , and that made him nervous. It was raining again this morning, but it was only a drizzle. The raindrops pattered against the window, a calming background noise.

George stepped into the kitchen and spotted the paper right away. He tried to ignore it, instead pouring himself a cup of coffee. But of course, he couldn’t resist his curiosity for long, and picked it up.

“three”  
when i pick pretty flower petals off a lavender spike,  
if he loves me, if he loves me not,  
_lavender spikes know not of my determination, for i am certain,  
_ lavender is his favorite flower.

Alexander was right. Lavender was his favorite flower. He remembered on their third date, Alexander surprised him with a bunch of them, hand-picked. He flipped the paper over.

 _You know the drill by now. Work is kicking my ass this week. But my ass is made of steel, and I’m determined to finish everything. I’ll make it up to you once these articles are finished. We can have a whole week of date nights. Okay, maybe not. I’ll think of something. I promise._ _  
_ _\- Alexander (the workaholic)_

George wondered how the articles still weren’t finished. Alexander was known to write three in a day. But he trusted his boyfriend to be telling the truth, so he simply folded the note and continued with his breakfast.

~

Alexander was already home when George arrived, and for once, neither of them were particularly tired. So they picked out a relatively new horror movie to watch while eating ice cream. Strawberry was George’s favorite, and Alexander chose mint chocolate chip. Alexander draped his weighted blanket over the two of them as the creepy intro music began.

The movie, in all honesty, was pretty terrifying. George couldn’t help but jump whenever the monster shrieked out of nowhere, causing Alexander to laugh. He wasn’t immune to the jumpscares, but he was better at hiding his surprise. George almost dropped his spoon multiple times, which was a scare of its own.

Their empty ice cream bowls sat on the coffee table as the movie wore on. Alexander was constantly chewing on his green quill necklace, tucked into George’s side and playing with the hem of his shirt. George, trying to be brave and hide his fear, wrapped an arm around Alexander and put on a poker face, but really he was internally screaming.

Eventually, the credits rolled, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief. George didn’t realize his muscles had become so tense until he relaxed and leaned his head back on the cushion. Alexander kissed his jaw and he smiled.

“I’m impressed that you still remember my favorite flower,” he said. Alexander hummed and kissed his jaw again.

“It’s lavender, isn’t it?” he questioned. George nodded. “Yeah, see, of course I remember, ‘cause I picked a shitload of them for our third date. That took me over an hour. I’m not gonna forget that anytime soon.”

“Can’t you just give me a hint?” George asked, exasperated. He sat up and looked right into his boyfriend’s eyes. Alexander quickly looked away, but a smile spread across his face.

“A hint about what?” He wrapped his arms around George’s torso.

“Alexander...” he groaned. “Please, just tell me one thing.”

“Hm...” He waited a few moments for dramatic effect. “No.”

George grumbled halfheartedly and tried to shove Alexander off his chest, but it didn’t work. Alexander laughed, and his chewy necklace fell out of his mouth.

“Just promise me that it’s nothing bad,” George said desperately.

“The next one goes like this,” Alexander said, kneeling on the couch and getting into his performance mode. George raised his eyebrows. “Your beauty distracts me from the smallest of everyday actions. Such as, turning the light off when we go to bed, for I always want to see you. Or, taking off my binder before falling asleep. I cracked a rib and had to go to the hospital. This isn’t a poem. Please visit me.”

“Alexander, don’t joke about that!” George shoved him away as he started to crack up. “I’m afraid that one day you’ll actually forget.”

“I’d be too worried about your reaction,” Alexander admitted. “You’d either lecture me until my ears fall off, or you’d actually cry. Or both.”

“Just please don’t forget, sweetheart,” George said, anxiety lining his voice.

“I promise I won’t,” Alexander said, still giggling a little as he kissed George on the lips. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alex has 100% definitely forgotten to take off his binder before this, and just didn't tell anyone about it


	5. thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and George play a suspenseful game of Uno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's almost saturday!! which means the mystery is almost at its end.

By now, George expected nothing different. He spared a glance at the small pile of poems on his nightstand before walking into the hallway. But today, he went into the living room instead. Hands on his hips, he scanned the room. Alexander had to be hiding something, somewhere. Maybe it was a puppy. He was sweetening George up beforehand, to make sure he wouldn’t be upset, and then he was going to surprise him with a dog.

George searched the living room quickly, and even poked his head into the bathroom, but there was nothing. Not even a trace of puppy adoption forms. He sighed and walked into the kitchen to grab a protein bar. On the way, he picked up the paper, which by now, was simply a routine.

_“two”_   
_white, fluorescent lightbulbs_   
_and_   
_sleek tiles._   
_hospital beds_   
_i_   
_never will forget, but_   
_george,_   
_these painful memories dull and are replaced._   
_overtop, thoughts of picnics and movie theaters._   
_night comes like clockwork, but our love is timeless._

George smiled sadly. He was all too aware of Alexander’s tragic past, and the early death of his mother. He was happy that Alexander was healing, and even more happy that he was helping. He turned the paper over.

_ You’re probably super upset with this by now. I’m really sorry. But the work calls me! There’s this one article that’s really tricky. I can’t seem to pin it down. For once, words escape me. My coworkers certainly aren’t helping. Actually, I think they’re doing the exact opposite. I hope your employees are kinder than mine today. _ _   
_ _ \- Alexander (the irritated) _

Of course he was upset, but a part of him was simply annoyed. He just wanted to know the answer to all of this, even if the entire gesture was extremely sweet and lovely. George poured a drink from the nearly-empty coffee pot and shoved the poem into his pocket.

~

“Honey, I’m home!” Alexander called jokingly as he arrived home that evening. He slipped his shoes off and walked into the living room.

George was sitting on the floor, a deck of Uno cards resting on the coffee table. His face was made of stone, not showing any emotion.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Am I ever,” Alexander said, sitting across from him. “Let’s go, bitch.”

George couldn’t help but laugh, and he joined in, too. Then the cards were dealt, and the game began.

“How do you have all those special cards?” Alexander groaned, lying on the carpet in shame. George continued to place reverses, skips, and wilds on the stack.

“You’re the one that kept fucking me over with the draw fours,” George practically sang. The numerous cards in his hand slowly disappeared until only two were left. “Okay, I’m done.”

Alexander sat up and glared at him, fury rising in his chest as George smiled sweetly. He stood up, holding a card in each hand.

“Well, guess what? Uno!” Alexander nearly screamed, slapping a blue seven on the stack, a manic grin gracing his features. And then, for added effect, he yelled, “Bitch!”

George frowned and put a red seven on top.

“Uno,” he said quietly.

Alexander narrowed his eyes. George felt a shiver go down his spine as Alexander smirked. And placed down a wild draw four. George sighed as his boyfriend danced around the room in victory.

“What was your card?” Alexander asked, like the little shit that he was.

George silently tossed a red three onto the table. Alexander kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” he said sweetly.

“Do you?” George snapped, only half-joking.

“Aw, darling, of course,” he said, standing up. “But I love winning even more.”

Alexander shrieked as he was chased around the apartment by a laughing George. The game was quickly forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they take uno very seriously, as do i


	6. friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander steals a travel mug and asks George a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats a bad summary but oh well
> 
> also!! have a few hints, because tomorrow the answer will be revealed!! and i want at least one person to solve it before then.
> 
> \- obv, put the poems in order. look at em. carefully.  
> \- i wrote them in all lowercase for a specific reason.  
> \- it would be best to look at the poems on a computer, or a device where the screen is wide enough to view each line correctly, without any automatic line breaks.  
> \- alex is lying about being busy at work. he's actually right on schedule. he might be working on something on the side, though...  
> \- alex practically inhales caffeine when he's stressed out.
> 
> alright, that's it!! hope you enjoy this chapter!!

The sun was up early that morning, as was Alexander, once again. George shuffled into the kitchen tiredly, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. He kept having bad dreams last night, but he didn’t remember exactly what they were about. He was so focused on thinking about it that he nearly spilled cereal all over the paper. He let out a long breath, heartbeat slowly recovering from the panic. He made sure the box was completely upright before reading the paper.

_“five”_  
_much of my life is spent thinking,_  
_as you know._  
_rarely does my mind rest from its constant buzzing._  
_really, my darling,_  
_you should know this by now._

Well, that was true. If Alexander wasn’t thinking, he was asleep. But even in his dreams, he never seemed to stop, because George had heard him ramble on about how vivid and story-like they were. He flipped to the other side of the paper.

_ I’m so close to finishing this article. I just know it. Then life can go back to normal. And you can stop worrying. Even though nothing’s wrong. And no, it’s not a puppy. I know how your mind works. Also, there was a leak in my travel mug, so I took yours. _ _  
_ _ \- Alexander (the mug-stealer) _

George frowned. He went to grab the coffee pot, but it was empty. His frown deepened. Either Alexander drank the entire pot, or he forgot to make it at all. George looked in the sink. Alexander’s travel mug sat in the sink, slowly dripping coffee from the side. He opened the cabinet to find, as he expected, his own mug gone.

He rolled his eyes and slipped the paper into his pocket.

~

They sat on their bed, a random Netflix show playing on George’s laptop. Alexander was hugging George’s torso, on the edge of sleep. It was raining outside, just a little. George was rubbing circles into Alexander’s shoulder.

“What’s it like?” Alexander asked, his voice barely audible. His green quill necklace almost fell out of his mouth.

“Hm?” George questioned.

“What’s top surgery like?” Alexander clarified. He chewed gently on his necklace, staring off into space.

“Well, it was scary,” George started. Then he paused and looked down. “Why do you ask?”

Alexander nuzzled into his chest, hiding his face in the soft fabric.

“Don’t like hospitals. And... my binder feels nice,” he mumbled. “Maybe... I don't even want... it.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” George said. He noticed how quiet Alexander was being, and how hesitant he sounded. “Are you going nonverbal? I can get your phone and you can use that new app you downloaded.”

“Mmm,” Alexander hummed, which was a ‘maybe.’ He rubbed George’s sweater absentmindedly. “Too much thinking. Want it quiet.”

George pursed his lips. Alexander always tried to hide some of his more 'obvious’ autistic traits, such as starting long conversations to hide being nonverbal, even if George repeatedly said that it was safe. He suspected that his boyfriend hadn't been treated very kindly about it in the past. So, he attempted to make up for it by being as accepting and understanding as possible.

“I’ll turn off the show,” George whispered, leaning forward and shutting the laptop. “Do you want to go to sleep now?”

Alexander nodded and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. George took his chewy necklace off for him, as Alexander nearly always forgot to take it off himself, and leaned over to put it on Alexander’s nightstand. Then he put the laptop in his bag, which was lying right next to the bed. As he laid back down, his eyes caught the pile of poems on his own nightstand. He smiled, and then turned away to wrap his arms around Alexander, who was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see you tomorrow!! :)
> 
> edit: you guys are too smart (or my hints completely gave it away, which they probably did) so i'm deleting your comments to not spoil it :') "frankie" and "idiot" (nice name) you got it right!!


	7. saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery is solved!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's the day, folks!!
> 
> if you still want to solve it yourself before george does (and you haven't already bc those hints were very obvious lol), i posted a complete list of alexander's poems on my tumblr. [click here!](http://owlsii.tumblr.com/post/177118138563/to-wax-poetic-chapter-7) it includes today's poem, which reveals the answer, so don't read "seven" if you don't want the solution.
> 
> alright!! let's start the last day of poetry~

The last day of the week. And the last day of poetry. George felt strangely awake that morning. He had slept surprisingly well last night. He stepped into the kitchen and went to grab a plate to make bacon. It was his day off, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. But he spotted the paper first, and curiosity took over his need for breakfast. His eyes widened as he read the poem.

 _“seven”_  
_my dearest george,_  
_words could never describe_  
_the love i have for you._  
_but if you wish to see them try,_  
_read the first letter of each poem i've given you this week._  
_ever yours,_  
_alexander_

George felt his heart speed into overdrive. He was about to run and get the other poems, but he stopped himself and flipped the paper over.

 _Sorry about this week! I know I’ve apologized a million times. I meant it every time. And I know you’ve been worrying about what all of this could possibly mean. Well, go ahead and find out! I’ve seen you piling them up on your nightstand. Come back to the kitchen and solve the puzzle. I love you._ _  
_ _\- Alexander (the hopeful)_

George sprinted into the bedroom, hastily grabbed the pile of papers, and returned to the kitchen. He lined the poems up on the kitchen island, hands shaking.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

_george. washington. will. you. marry. me._

George felt his heart stop.

He heard someone clear their throat and his head snapped to the doorway. Alexander was standing there, in an expensive, dark green suit, his hair down. He was fidgeting with a small box in his hands.

“Um, for once, I don’t really have any words,” Alexander started, his voice shaking a little. “I thought that my writing could encapsulate all that my heart feels for you, but it’s still not enough. I’ve, uh, I’ve gone through some shitty times in my life. It wasn’t fun. But then I met you, and... and my problems didn’t disappear right away. But they did slowly stop bothering me. And I learned to move on. To better things. Like... like you. You’ve accepted and supported me like no one else has, and you just get me, y’know? It’s like we’re soulmates or something. Which is why... uh...”

He paused and opened the box, tears glistening in his eyes. The ring sparkled in the light. He got down on one knee.

“George Washington, will you marry me?”

George realized that he’d been crying. As soon he saw Alexander at the doorway, tears had started flowing freely down his face, filled with realization and shock and _love_.

“Yes,” he said, nodding furiously. “Yes, of course, Alexander.”

Alexander sobbed and slid the ring on George’s finger. George grabbed his arms and pulled him into a teary kiss, feeling the cold metal of the ring on his hand.

~

“How’s it feel to be engaged?” Alexander asked that night, as they got in bed.

“Amazing,” George said simply, staring at the ceiling. “Words can’t describe it.”

“See how it feels?” Alexander smirked, but it turned into a frown. He slid under the covers and turned his back to George. His voice turned quiet. “I, um... You know how I said I’ve been busy at work all week?”

“Yes?” George asked, knowing exactly what was coming.

“I lied,” Alexander said. He sighed and turned around so George could see the upset look on his face.  “All week, I’ve been trying to write something, anything, that captures everything I feel when I look at you. Because it’s more than just love. It’s... It’s all these _feelings_ that I can’t put into words. I couldn’t write it. I’m sorry.”

Alexander was fidgeting with his fingers and rubbing the nails on his right hand. George placed his hands over Alexander’s and kissed him on the forehead.

“There is absolutely nothing you should be apologizing for,” George said. “You gave me six, technically seven, wonderful poems. Those were more than enough words, Alexander.”

Alexander smiled and kissed George’s finger, right where the sparkling ring still was.

“I even tried to plan something for a big speech, you know? Instead of stuttering over my words like an idiot,” he muttered, letting his head fall onto the pillow.

“Your speech was fine,” George said and ran a hand through Alexander’s hair.

“Well,” he said, climbing out of the covers. He flicked off the lightswitch and the room was covered in darkness. “Good thing I hid a camera by the coffee pot.”

“You actually hid a camera?” George asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. I did.” Alexander unlocked his phone, which was on his nightstand. The light illuminated the grin on his face. “I’m going to look at the video tomorrow. I took the day off.”

“As you should,” George said. He opened his arms and waited for Alexander to get back in bed. “Now, c’mere. I need someone to cuddle.”

Alexander laughed and snuggled up in George’s arms, feeling the warmth of the taller man. He curled up and leaned his head on George’s shoulder. His eyes closed, and he could already hear George’s breathing begin to steady. A sense of calm filled him, and his mind slowed, an occasion that rarely happened. Maybe... Maybe he didn’t need words to describe this. The feeling was enough.

“I love you,” Alexander whispered into the darkness.

“I love you, too,” George whispered back.

In the safe embrace of each other, they both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :') i love them so much
> 
> more with this au is coming soon, hopefully!! i've already drafted about half of another fic.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed to wax poetic!!


End file.
